Diving Into Oblivion
by K. Raquel
Summary: Lies, mistakes, regrets. She was devastated and vulnerable; He was lonely and sympathetic. They would never be forgiven. takes place at the episode Joy, when Becca tells Cuddy she's keeping the child. Rated T just to be safe. R&R!
1. Chapter 1: Just Advil

Hi everyone! So, this is just something that came to mind. To be truthful, it's actually becoming very painful to write, and if you can't already guess why, you will find out. VERY soon. I already have the main idea for the next chapter, so it shouldn't be long. It depends how exams go, but we'll see. Plus, I'm also working on some other fics.

like the summary said, this fic takes place right after Becca decided to keep the child. This chapter contains no fluff, and a lot of pain from these characters.

So it's short, but it's just an introduction to what is about to come. I hope it turns out alright, but thats for you to judge. so R&R!

Disclaimer- Even though i wish I owned the brilliant TV hit by the name of House MD, i do not. It all belongs to David Shore and Fox. But this is my writing, so please don't steal!

Enjoy!

* * *

Pain struck her everywhere. She felt as if her heart had been shattered into a billion pieces, and her head had been angrily pounded into the pavement several times. The hurt surged through her veins and circulated throughout her frail body, becoming too much to handle. She groaned and rolled over in her bed, now facing the window. Observing the dark sky, she noticed it was snowing, but not too badly.

Grabbing the home phone off of her nightstand, Lisa Cuddy dialed the familiar number with urgency. As she lifted the phone receiver to her ear, she let out, yet again, another sob. This had been going on ever since she got home from work that day.

As time went on, the feelings got worse. It wasn't easy having a cloud of jealousy, rage, and hopelessness not only hang limply over your head, but rain onto every pore of your body. Cuddy couldn't think straight anymore.

A friendly voice took the place of the ringing. "Hello?"

Cuddy was relieved when he picked up. The Dean of Medicine glanced over at the clock, noticing that it was two in the morning.

Whoops.

"Hi Wilson. It's me." Cuddy closed her eyes and bit down on her lower lip, hating herself for calling this early in the morning. "Did I wake you?"

"Actually, no. I was wondering if you were ok." Wilson's voice helped sooth Cuddy's pain, but only a little bit. He wasn't Vicodin or Methadone…he was Advil. There was only one person who could make her feel better than Wilson did, and she wasn't about to call him over. But, nonetheless, she was glad that Wilson cared about her, and was thankful for such a great friend.

"Well…that's why I'm calling." A tear pushed it's way out of her eye and slid down her cheek. Not bothering to wipe it away, the rest of the salt drops started embracing her cheeks, as if they each contained a bit of happiness or hope that was attempting to hold on to her, but failed. And fell to the ground in defeat.

Wilson sighed. He felt terrible about what had happened at work that day. The mother of Cuddy's baby was admitted to the hospital after showing signs of illnesses. She eventually got very sick, and after doing everything she could to help save both the baby and mother's life (but mainly the baby's life. He didn't blame her, though, for Cuddy did tend to be a selfish person at times.), Cuddy was repaid with devastation. Becca, the mother of what was supposed to be Cuddy's baby girl, decided that she wanted to keep the child.

Wilson knew how devastated Cuddy was. He knew how long and difficult the battle to finally receive a child was for her. She had even found some suitable sperm donors, but that plan fell through as well, for she just couldn't conceive a baby. And when Cuddy finally found a mother who was willing to give her what she had always dreamed of, it all just fell apart. Slipped right through the cracks in the bridge that lead to satisfaction and passion. Engulfed by the fluffy white snow, only to be rediscovered at another time, but no one knew for sure.

It all just fell apart. It always did.

Wilson knew that Cuddy was in need of a friend. "I'll be right over."

Cuddy smiled for the first time that day, however small it was. "Thank you, James."

"No problem, Lisa." With that, he hung up the phone.

Slowly, Wilson rose from the bed. He really hadn't been asleep, and instead spent the entire night thinking about the events that had taken place earlier that day and staring up at the ceiling. He was glad to hear that Cuddy was still…partially functioning.

He dragged his feet along with him as he moved towards the closet to change from his pajamas into something a bit more presentable. Choosing a white T-shirt and a pair of old blue jeans, which he had only worn once before, he quickly changed his clothes and headed into the kitchen. From the liquor cabinet, he chose one bottle of scotch and one of vodka, just in case that would become a demand of his depressed boss. Cuddy was a good person, he thought, and deserved at least little happiness during times like these.

On his way out of the house, he grabbed some shopping bags to carry the alcohol, his car keys, and his coat. Before opening the door to head over to Cuddy's, he stole a glance out the window. The snow had let up a little bit, so he was able to drive. Good, he thought.

Wilson flicked off the light switch and exited his home, not knowing what was about to come of this snowy, dark, very early December morning.

* * *

Should I continue? do you really want to read the rest? Tell me in a review! I also really love criticism, so go right ahead!


	2. Chapter 2: Take Me On the Floor

Here's chapter 2. I just need to thank not lupus. everybody lies (without the correct slashes and whatnot...it wont let me save it if there are user names for some reason) for helping me out SO much with this! thank you so so so much!

after coming to the web homepage, type in the extension /u/1643640/. (once again, the website won't let me post the actual link.) great stuff....like....amazing. read these fics! once again, thank you so much :)

So, if there's any questions, feel free to message me. If you've got any comments, suggestions, or criticism, write a review! I love hearing what you all think, and I'd love to know what I can do to improve my writing. Should I continue? Any thoughts?

R&R! enjoy!

Disclaimer- House MD belongs to David Shore and Fox, this is just my take on it.

* * *

The pain was too much to handle. Nothing could compare to what had now taken over his mind and heart, making every part of his body ache. Not even the pain his leg could compare. The process of dry-swallowing two Vicodin pills couldn't soothe these feelings and emotions.

This was all too real.

It was 3:00 in the morning, and Dr. Gregory House stiffly stationed himself at his piano; one hand clutching a bottle of scotch, and the other one he placed limply on the keys. He had never felt this way before. Never before had he experienced any type of emotion or sympathy towards another human being. Hell, he hadn't known he was even capable of doing so! And now, he was experiencing feelings that pulled him apart in every direction, forcing him to search for himself in places that were unimaginable.

Hoping for some sort of relief, he tried to let it all out in a song. For some reason, though, he couldn't make a connection between his brain and his hand. All he could manage to do was think about the truth that was staring at him in the face.

The events of the day kept running through his mind, repeating over, and over again.

He felt for Cuddy, and he hated himself for making her think otherwise. House had spend so much time objecting Cuddy's decision to adopt a child, and even though it was an objection that came from the heart, he didn't know why he felt that way. But, he was also lying to both himself and Cuddy by repeatedly telling her that she would be a bad mother, which he knew was far from the truth. He didn't understand his feelings. Why was it like this?

Maybe it was because he wanted to be seen as more than just an employee to her. Maybe he wanted to be a part of her life in a more than just one way. Maybe it was the fact that they both knew there was only one option as to who the father of her kid would be; but instead, she took a road that wasn't even there. House didn't know what he wanted anymore. All he knew is that he wanted _her_, and he always would.

House had been contemplating weather or not to call Cuddy, or pay a visit to her house to make sure she was all right. He wanted to see her; wipe the tears off her cheeks and tell her everything would all be ok, even though they would both know that it wouldn't. He wanted to tell her everything that was going on in his mind, about how much he needed her. He wanted more than anything to apologize to her for breaking her apart so many times before, and wanted to personally pick up the pieces. He loved her, and he now realized that there was no possible way he could continue denying that to himself.

House was afraid of rejection, and knew exactly what would happen if he tried to confront her. It would either turn out that Cuddy would come up with some excuse as to why it would never work between them, or they would have sex, begin and end a relationship within a month, and someone would get extremely hurt.

House didn't know what to do with himself.

Never been able to make these emotional decisions by himself, he slowly got up from the piano bench and sulked over to the cordless phone next to the couch. He didn't bother using his cane to limp there, because his heart hurt more than his leg ever would.

Grabbing the phone in desperation, his fingers glided across the keypad, dialing the all-too-familiar number. As he lifted the receiver to his ear, he plopped down lifelessly on the couch. House expected the phone to ring once or twice before the friendly voice the other side greeted him. He was surprised when he reached the voicemail.

Concluding that his friend was probably at the bar or something, House dialed his cell phone number. To his dismay, he got voicemail there, too.

Over, and over again he received this message echoing clearly in his ear.

"Hello. You've reached Dr. James Wilson. I'm sorry I can't get to the phone right now, but please leave your name and number and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. Than-"

Angrily, House slammed his thumb against the end button. Where the hell is he? House glanced at the clock, which read 4:00 am. Had it really been an hour already? Suddenly remembering the phone in his hand, he placed it back onto the home charger, realizing that he wasn't getting a call back anytime soon.

Who the hell would be out of their house at four in the morning?

House was royally pissed; partially because he just noticed that he had drank the whole bottle of scotch. A groan escaped through his tightly clamped lips. Reluctantly, he rose up from the couch and sleepily groped his way into the kitchen. While he searched his cabinets for more liquor, he continuously wondered where Wilson could be when he was needed most.

Wilson had always been there for House, especially in times like these, to make sure that House didn't drink himself to oblivion. For House's own good, though, there was no alcohol to be found anywhere in his kitchen. Which reminded him of the other thing Wilson was good for- bringing him booze in times like these. (House made a mental note to make sure that he stocked up as soon as possible, for he could never get through a Christmas without his good ol' friends: scotch and whisky.)

Knowing that there was nothing left to do but wait for the daylight to arrive, House wearily decided that he should attempt to get some sleep. Not knowing if that would only make the pain sink deeper into his soul, it was worth a try.

All of a sudden, as he began making his way to his bedroom, he collapsed. Something had shattered inside of him, but it didn't matter. As far as he knew, it could have been his heart. It sure as hell felt that way.

There was only one word that could be used to describe Dr. Gregory House at that exact moment: hopeless.

It hurt too much too move, but there was no point in doing so anyway. A night out on the cool kitchen tile couldn't be that terrible. All there was left to do was think. He thought about Wilson. Where was he? He thought about his feelings. Is this what emotional pain is supposed to be like? He thought about Cuddy. Is she ok? Does she need me? I need her. Why can't she see that? Why do I have to love you? Why can't we make this work? I need you. I love you.

And, for the first time in his life, Gregory House cried. Tears poured down his cheeks, forming a small puddle on the tile where he lay. He didn't object, or even try to block the tears from pushing their way out of his perfect blue eyes. These tears have been waiting to fall ever since he was born.

So, he cried himself to sleep, thinking only of Wilson, Cuddy, and the questions that were to be answered in the day ahead.


	3. Chapter 3: Everybody's Broken

Sorry, it's been a while since I updated this. here's your next chapter. Thank you once again to Simone (Not Lupus. Everybody Lies, on my fav author list...check it out!) for helping me out! also, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter i've written so far, so I'm not sure if I should apologize for that. but...you decide! Do you like it? Review! I love criticism!!!

R&R!

Enjoy :)

* * *

A bright ray of sunshine shone onto her face. Was it really morning already? A loud groan echoed off of the walls as Lisa Cuddy rolled over in her bed to face the window. The light was so bright, she was afraid to open her eyes. What time was it?

Slowly, Cuddy opened her perfect blue-grey eyes. Her head started to pound, and she realized she had a massive headache. She glanced over to the clock on her nightstand, which read 12:00pm. Shit. She was late for work. Groaning once more, Cuddy sunk back into her pillow, shutting her eyes tightly in frustration.

She froze.

_Shit. _Cautiously, Cuddy turned her head, only to find Wilson stirring on the opposite side of the bed.

No…

no no no no no!

Cuddy's heart stopped. What the hell was going on? As she watched Wilson sleep soundly in her bed, the events from the previous night came rushing back to her, sending her into a whirlwind of regret.

*****************************

There was a light knock on the door. She lazily got up from her couch and made her way over to the source of the light tapping. Her eyes were red and puffy from the tears that had rapidly escaped earlier. She felt as if she couldn't cry anymore, although all of that changed when she opened the door.

He stood there with a sympathetic smile and warm, loving eyes. She tried to smile back, but instead began to sob once more.

"Lisa…." He began. He couldn't finish. There was nothing he could say that would help. There was a loss of words, and as hard as he tried, he knew there was nothing he could do to make this any better. Instead, he let her find shelter in his arms. That was the best he could offer.

After a long moment of comfort, he pulled away. He smiled a bit as he held up the big bag of booze he had brought along. Cuddy laughed as she wiped away a stray tear.

"Thanks, Wilson," Cuddy spoke softly, and closed the door behind him as he strolled into her living room.

Carefully placing the huge brown bag on the table in the cozy living room, Wilson noticed the mountains of tissues scattered along the floor. He raised his eyebrows as he saw the extent of his friend's misery.

"Well, I was going to ask how you were doing, but I don't think that's necessary." Wilson laughed nervously.

Cuddy stood in the doorway, and lightly chuckled along with him. She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Well, I'm holding up." She trudged over to the couch and plopped down. Wilson followed.

For a long moment, both doctors just sat there enjoying each other's presence. Cuddy thought about how lucky she was to have people who cared about her in her life. She secretly wondered if she should've called House. No. Wilson was better in these situations, Cuddy concluded. Wilson actually cared.

The silence that filled the room wasn't awkward, but instead was quite comforting. Wilson was reluctant to end the moment.

"You…don't have to go to work tomorrow. It would be best if you get some rest. "

Cuddy sighed and rubbed between here eyebrows in distress. "You know I can't do that, Wilson. " She looked over at him. "Plus, maybe work will help get my mind off of this…mess." It was the only word she could use to describe the current circumstances. She brought her left hand up to her mouth to stop a sob from escaping her throat, and then took a deep breath, blinking a few tears from her eyes.

Wilson looked over at her. He sympathetically chuckled. "You're a mess. You can't work! For once, take some time off."

Cuddy rolled her eyes playfully. They were more empty than usual. The blue wasn't as deep, and the grey overpowered it more so than normal.

"Please. Both you and I know that when I'm not there, all hell breaks loose. Besides, House will-"

She was cut off by Wilson's authoritative voice. "Don't worry about House, for once. He'll be ok."

Wilson was probably right. It was about time that House grew up and started realizing how hard he made her life. Of course she loved every minute of his teasing and presence, but Cuddy would never admit that, nor would she admit that Wilson was right about her not being physically and mentally able to go to work the next day.

"I'll be fine by tomorrow. I promise," Cuddy assured him as she got up from the couch. Curiously, she peered into the bag.

"Wilson…I don't drink this much!" Cuddy widened her eyes as she gazed at the gigantic bottles of alcohol he had brought along.

"Well, since it's too late to take you to the bar, I decided to bring the bar to you." Wilson grinned.

Cuddy followed shortly after, although the pain still jabbed at her behind her laughs and smiles. A little to drink definitely couldn't hurt. She began making her way into the kitchen to get some glasses.

"I'll be right back!" She called over her shoulder.

Wilson was pleased. He was glad Cuddy was feeling a bit better. He knew how much she wanted this child, but life was just unfair. Suddenly, Wilson thought of House. Maybe this was the reason House didn't believe in god; there was too much pain in life for there to actually be a man upstairs. But, there was a reason for everything. No one could see it, but the reason was there.

The sound of clinging glass interrupted Wilson's thoughts. He looked up, only to find Cuddy standing over him. She handed him a glass.

Cuddy circled the couch to reach the table, and weakly started removing the massive bottles from the bag. Automatically, She picked up the vodka and began opening it. Wilson took the scotch and unscrewed the top as well. As they both poured the drinks into their glasses, Cuddy sat back down on the couch, seeming exasperated.

"Cheers," Wilson held up his glass of scotch.

"To the bitter future," Cuddy responded, clinking glasses with her good friend. Both drank, truthfully hoping that the future wouldn't be _that_ bitter.

Impulsively, Cuddy winced. As she stole a glance at the colossal bottles of alcohol, she half sighed, half laughed, " I haven't drank this much vodka since college." She took another swig.

Wilson grasped his glass and observed its contents. "Partying hard with House?" He joked wit her. He also raised the glass to his lips.

This was one of his favorite pastimes- making House puns to Cuddy, vice versa. He knew they liked each other, and was anxiously waiting for the moment where they both grew the balls to admit it to one another. Wilson smiled to himself. As terrible as it sounded, the events of the day were bound to bring House and Cuddy together. Maybe that was the upcoming miracle.

Cuddy interrupted his thoughts. " Oh please! You know I wasn't close with him in college…" Cuddy partially lied as she took another gulp of her drink. Wilson saw right through her.

" Yeah…except that one time…" He teased as he finished sipping his first glass. A smirk formed on his lips as Cuddy nervously rolled her eyes and playfully slapped his arm. As much as Wilson hated to admit it, it kind of hurt.

"It was once. ONE time!" she practically shouted at Wilson as she lifted the glass to her lips once more. She was surprised to find that it was empty. Without much thought, she began to refill it as she raised her eyebrows and gazed up at Wilson, who widened his eyes in curiosity under her lethal stare.

"Fine! I'll stop bugging you about it," He smirked. He refilled his glass as he watched Cuddy from his peripheral vision. He was obviously lying, but did Cuddy catch on?

Cuddy gave another dramatic eye roll and let her body sink into the soft cushions of the couch. of course she knew the teasing would never stop. She took another sip of her drink. Damn, she thought, as the liquid slowly flowed down her throat. This was some good stuff.

After a long pause, Wilson looked at Cuddy as she tucked her knees into her chest. Cuddy noticed Wilson staring at her, and cocked her head as her gaze shifted from the floor back to him.

"What?" Cuddy slightly angled her head in confusion.

Wilson caught himself. "No, nothing. I just have one question." He fidgeted a bit as Cuddy urged him to continue.

"Ok….ask away." Cuddy demanded, hugging her knees as her eyes watched Wilson like a hawk.

Wilson took a sip of his drink and shrugged. "Well, was it love?"

Cuddy's eyes widened at the question. "Huh?"

Wilson sighed as he turned to face his boss. "Cuddy, face it. Now, it's love. You both are just too stubborn and immature to admit it. But when did it become love?"

Cuddy sat up. She felt an inquisitive smirk play onto her lips. "I don't understand what you're getting at." Once again, she realized her glass was almost empty, and attempted to drink the last of its contents.

Wilson refilled his glass as he spoke. " Well, you two _did_ sleep together, no matter how long ago it was. Why, though? Was it love?"

Cuddy tried to hold back her giddy laughter. The drink was really kicking in now, she noticed.

"Wilson, I barely knew him! You know, not everyone has sex because of love." Her laughter turned into a stare of bewilderment. "Why do you ask?"

The oncologist shrugged and took a gulp of scotch. "Well, if it was love then, it's still love. Stop running away from your feelings, Lisa."

Cuddy didn't answer. Damn, she thought. Even when Wilson was drinking, he was ethical; more so than Cuddy was when she was sober! Instead of answering him, she refilled her glass. How many drinks had it been already?

"He loves you. You know that. You love him. You always have. Do something about it! You could end up spending the rest of your life together, and start a family, and-" Wilson stopped himself. Whoops.

A pained expression crossed Cuddy's face as she dropped her gaze to the familiar floor. She had already lost a child today. Would she ever have a _family_? Cuddy realized that the alcohol didn't help demolish the pain-it only covered it up. It was like a band-aid, for everything was ok until you uncover the wound. Then, all of the pain comes rushing back.

Wilson noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. Shit, he thought. Why would he even say that? He was drunk, no doubt. He glanced over at the almost empty bottle of Scotch. Shit. He also noticed that the Vodka was already finished.

Shit. They were both drunk. How would he get home?

He diverted his gaze back to Cuddy, who was now on the verge of another mental breakdown.

"Cuddy…I'm so sorry. I completely forgot." Wilson tried to console her, and embraced her. She cried into his arms.

"I could never have a family. Not with House, or anyone else. I can't have a child, Wilson! And just when someone is about to let me have theirs, it all just…." Her voice broke at the thought.

"One day you'll be happy. Everyone has the chance to be happy. " He regretted that one, too.

Cuddy looked at him incredulously. "Well, what about House? From the looks of it, he'll never be happy. What if I end up like him? I love him, Wilson, but I want to live life, and he just sits on his ass all day and sulks about his leg!" The Dean of Medicine painfully shook her head, allowing her perfectly spiraled black curls to stir as well.

"It would never work."

Wilson lowered his gaze, not wanting to look into her devastated eyes. "He loves you. Maybe one day you both could be happy together. He loves you enough to shape up if you give him the chance." He was sure that he wasn't lying that time.

Cuddy shook her head once more. "No, James. He'll never change for anyone." Another sob welled up in her throat as she continued, "He'll never be happy." And with that, she broke down.

There were too many feelings at one, overwhelming Cuddy. She cried for House- how she longed to help him. Everyone deserved a little happiness, but House would never let Cuddy console him. She wanted so badly to help him-no, to have him.

She cried for the future. She would never have House, let alone children. Fear crossed her as she began thinking about her dying alone.

Lastly, she cried for Joy. Would she ever have it? Would she ever have her? Joy. Joy was supposed to be hers. Not only was she supposed to feel joyful, but she was supposed to _have_ joy. The double meaning made cuddy's heart hurt.

Cuddy's uncontrollable sobbing was also partially induced by the giant bottle of vodka she had demolished, but she didn't care. The pain was stronger than ever.

So, she cried.

What seemed like hours had passed by, and Cuddy's sobs muted, only leaving behind the uncontrollable shaking. Wilson held tightly onto his boss, knowing that she needed someone to be there for her. She gently shivered in his arms.

Suddenly, she shifted her gaze to Wilson's friendly eyes. She searched endlessly for some sort of reassurance in them, but only found bewilderment staring back at her. Then, that bewilderment turned into passion. Cuddy felt it, too. Still, passion wasn't reassurance. She needed assurance that it would all be ok, even if Wilson knew it would not.

Without thinking, Cuddy grasped that back of Wilson's neck. She began to pull him closer, but soon realized that she didn't need to, for he was coming on his own. Hoping to find some sort of security, she let her soft lips lightly touch his. It was a gentle kiss, and Cuddy pulled away. Only to be met with his pleading eyes, She leaned back in for more.

The kiss was more urgent this time, as the two broken souls searched for company and love in one another. Cuddy felt her hands slide down to Wilson's shoulders, and she pulled herself closer to him. His tongue felt it's way into cuddy's mouth, but she didn't stop him. She returned the gesture. Tears began to well in her eyes as the alcohol took over Cuddy's actions. Urgently, she began unbuttoning his shirt.

Wilson reluctantly pulled away, only to realize that Cuddy was crying. "Lisa…we don't need to…" But he wanted to. She could tell from the look in his eyes.

Cuddy didn't disagree. She let their eyes meet once more, signaling that she needed him.

Wilson shook his head, and slowly stood up. He wanted this to happen, but thought about House. Would he ever do this to his best friend? Plus, he knew it wasn't love. Cuddy was completely wasted while going through this devastating disappointment, and Wilson was just plain drunk. He knew he should be there for her, but she didn't need sex- she needed a friend.

He made his way over to the door, knowing that he wouldn't be able to drive. Wilson was _extremely _intoxicated- more so than ever. Hesitantly, he began opening the door. He felt a small, shaky hand grab his forearm.

"I need you." Cuddy's voice broke as the tears streamed down her flawless face. She was beautiful.

"Lisa…you're crying." Wilson was confused.

Cuddy wiped away some of the tears with the palms of her hands. She had been thinking about House, which caused her eyes to burn. Throughout the whole exchange before, Cuddy thought about him, and had come to the conclusion that she couldn't just keep on waiting for House to come to her. It was time to move on with her life; Cuddy agreed with her conscious, even though her heart spoke otherwise. She couldn't wait for House. Even as her conscious was taken over by the alcohol, she let it win.

"Please stay," she pleaded.

Wilson couldn't think straight anymore. Not knowing if it was a bad idea or not, he cupped her face in his hands and let their mouths melt together once more.

Before they knew it, Wilson's shirt was completely unbuttoned, and Cuddy was clad in just a bra and a seductive pair of panties. Their mouths and bodies were passionately intertwined as Cuddy led her colleague into her bedroom. Not bothering to close the door, Cuddy threw Wilson onto the bed and let the rest of the night unfold, never once thinking upon the future.

**************************************

Cuddy glanced over at Wilson and pulled the covers closer around her body.

Oh shit.


End file.
